


Life sentence

by dimtraces



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-09-12 05:59:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16867429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimtraces/pseuds/dimtraces
Summary: Very short stories about Vader. Collection.





	1. Darth Vader, exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> I love the conciseness of three sentence fic, without the rigorous editing a drabble needs. Here's an archive of the prompts I've done about Vader.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

He stood, the Jedi slumped half against his chest, saber still burning through her. It was good she was dead, and quickly: she was scum, a traitor to the Empire and to order and  _(she let Padmé die they all did)_  but deep in the wires of his heart he wanted the Jedi alive again, wanted to fight her again, over and over and ceaselessly forever.

There was purpose in fight; instead, soon his troops would arrive and notify the Master of the necessity for healing, for regaining functionality, and Vader would shuffle into his tank and be still and suffer the closing of his new stomach wound; there was purpose, or at least – there would be no end for him Master had proved, and out of the inescapable monotonies of death and recovery, Vader far preferred the one that didn’t leave him time to  _remember_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks anon for the prompt!


	2. Obi-Wan and Anakin.

“Master, please,” he slurs or he thinks—two actions impossible to tell apart here deep under the gurgle of the bacta tank and the muzzle of its airspout—“Master,” an echo of the pain-etched memory he just left, begging for help, for comfort, and once he wrests a shred of lucidity from the dream, he knows: for death.

Vader remembers being half-blind with pain, and he remembers Kenobi, laughing, boot-prodding the ruin of him, and  _that was not the right face,_  it occurs to Vader,  _not Kenobi, not the right Master, that’s not who didn’t let me_ —but now it must have been Kenobi who laughed, because Kenobi left him, and Vader will not allow his former Master to have grieved this loss.

Kenobi hated Vader, Vader hates him, and that is how it has always been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks anon for the prompt!


	3. Darth Vader + Leia, amends.

Sheathed in the glare of many suns and the occasional light bulb, biding time, the ghost watches: his daughter, clinking glasses of victory in a circle of friends, or tabling a motion to pursue the remnants of his Empire-- _so like her mother, and he did not see when it mattered_ \--crying, pulling the careful pins out her braids and placing them on a bedsite shrine before the soft glow of a scavenged holovid showing two people-- _child thieves_ \--two dead that he does not care to look at.  
  
When her boy is two, he leaves. He has not found the words, but if he had, he thinks--the only blessing she could accept would still be his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [acequeenking](https://acequeenking.dreamwidth.org/</a)'s prompt at the [Three Sentence Ficathon](https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/139838.html?thread=4863038#cmt4863038).


End file.
